


Reunion

by Nightwood



Category: Nightwood
Genre: Fantasy, M/M, Mild Censored Language, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 18:43:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1357942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightwood/pseuds/Nightwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An elf named Wil'em enters a town on a recruitment mission, only to find that the recruitee and old acquaintance now hates his guts. Time to turn on the charm.</p><p>
  <em>... The burgundy-haired elf was in the midst of removing the journey's grime from his lean form when he heard the jarring of familiar footsteps against the wooden stairs leading up to the second floor. With a sigh he picked up a towel and held it to his face, wiping the water from his eye lashes and catching the runaway drops that threatened to escape off of the tip of his pointed chin. When the door flew open, he did not give the intruder the courtesy of even a backward glance in their direction. ...</em>
</p><p>Setting: Middle Earth</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunion

The midday weather in town was pleasant. The sun shone shyly down on the town from behind the skirts of a fluffy, protective cloud. Occasionally it would steal away to hide completely, casting the land in a cool shade only to return to its cautious people-watching when the coast seemed clear. The damp air hovering between buildings over the muddy, unpaved roads and alleys spoke of rain recently passed. The uncaring clouds above remained white with disinterest in regards to the humans that occasionally paused to look up and inquire as to whether another drizzle would pass through.

Today was one of those days where nothing particularly dramatic was supposed to happen. But we don't do cliches here. Adventure waits for no weather! Though admittedly, the figure in the traveling cloak might have preferred to arrive in town under the cover of rain. Nevertheless, he had arrived and he would not wait for nightfall to enter town, for those hours belonged to thieves and cowards.

Wil'em located the local inn with ease, finding his memory of the area to be impeccably accurate, as always. He paid for a room and took this chance to relax and truly unwind from the strain of journeying. The burgundy-haired elf was in the midst of removing the journey's grime from his lean form when he heard the jarring of familiar footsteps against the wooden stairs leading up to the second floor. With a sigh he picked up a towel and held it to his face, wiping the water from his eye lashes and catching the runaway drops that threatened to escape off of the tip of his pointed chin. When the door flew open, he did not give the intruder the courtesy of even a backward glance in their direction. His sharp green eyes followed the path of the cloth towel instead as he lowered it from his face and held it in his hands.

"...I would have preferred a knock before entry," he murmured to the towel as the man behind him bristled.

"You bloody B*****D."

"I will never understand your usage of that word," the male elf replied. Wil'em's waist-length burgundy braid brushed against his bare back as he turned his head to look back at the man. "Have I not told you time and time again that my birth occurred under the vows of the sacred marriage of--"

"EXPLAIN YOURSELF."

A frown broke over the smooth features of the elf's angular face under the sharpness of the interruption. _Absolutely no regard for etiquette whatsoever,_ he thought with an inward sigh as his green eyes flicked over the man in the doorway. Save for the increased length to the ebony hair which sat trapped in a messy ponytail, the human had not changed. His broad-shouldered form remained as strongly built as ever and- as much as the elf loathed to admit it- the human's height still bested him by naught but and inch. The graceful height of the elven race was one of their many self-claimed marks of superiority among the races of earth and yet this man was as tall as any elf. Augh, humiliating. And yet, as always, intriguing.

The human grew impatient, the side of his fist colliding with the door frame in his anger. "Didn't you hear me? Explain yourself!"

The shirtless elf visibly bristled and finally reacted, turning and striding towards the man with his jaw set tightly. "I will," he voiced as he approached, "once you knock!" With this said he reached out, using his momentum and his keen sense of the man's balance to kick a leg out from under him. As the man fell, Wil'em's palm shot forward and collided with his forehead to send him toppling backwards and out of the room. With a final, snooty huff, the door was closed and the bolt shut securely.

...KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Wil'em ignored the noise, choosing to take his own sweet time getting dressed as payment for the human's rudeness. He adjusted his leggings and slid on his boots before donning the elven chain mail shirt and the tunic that covered it. When his hooded travel cloak was in place, he finally elected to answer the knocks at the door.

"Yes?" he murmured cooly as he arched an eyebrow at the fuming man before him.

For all his agility and training, Wil'em did not see the man's punch coming until he had drawn back his arm and caught the elf square in the nose.

...

The room was dim, for the windows had been closed to keep the setting private. A small amount of sunlight pushed in through the cracks to help the little candle in its effort to illuminate the room. A table rested in the middle with the two chairs on either side occupied by a grim-faced male.

"Daniel Nightshade, your susceptibility to emotion will be the death of you one day," Wil'em scolded calmly as he held the gaze of the glaring man across the table.

"It already nearly was," Daniel shot back, "when I trusted you! You _left_ me to rot in that prison, Wil'em!"

"My King did not consent to a formation of a rescue party. But that did not matter. I knew you'd escape."

"Oh is that so! How then??"

"You are Daniel Nightshade. You're far too stubborn to die in prison."

The ebony-haired man let out a bitter guffaw at these words, clearly unconvinced. "Am I now? Well, it's a D*** GOOD THING you left that up to me then, isn't it!" His expression turned to that of disgust and he leaned back in his chair. "It matters not. I see now that you did not come to apologize. Well? What do you want, elf?"

Wil'em shifted fluidly in his seat. "I am tasked with a great, burdensome duty from my King. The journey will be treacherous," Wil'em began. Even as he formed the words, Daniel began to shake his head and laugh, his disbelief bordering into hysterics as he guessed where this was headed. "...and I need your help."

Daniel's chair shrieked as it scraped loudly against the old wooden floor and then toppled onto its back. Daniel's fist went down on the table as his emotions flashed freely across his face in multitudes. Anger. Amusement. Disbelief. Pain. His growl bubbled up into a dangerous laugh. "Oooh you and your bloody arrogance. Oh, I could just _kill_ you right now..."

Daniel's response earned a grin from Wil'em. The burgundy-haired elf leaned forward in his chair, brimming with confidence. "No you couldn't."

"Oh yeah? Tell me why."

"I will walk out of here alive because your loyalty to those whom you love has always been stronger than your hate."

Wil'em waited. When Daniel gave no response save for the same raging glare, he asserted his request once more. "Join me."

"You're a fool."

"Join me."

"I will not."

Wil'em's chair met the same fate as its brother lying on the floor and the elf reached out, catching Daniel's shirt collar in his slender fingers and pulling the man's face close. There was a tense silence as the two leaned over the table, Daniel's hands grasping the hand holding his shirt collar as Wil'em stared him down. And then finally, as Daniel feared he would, Wil'em closed the distance.

The elf's usual scent of honey filled Daniel's nostrils as he sucked in a ragged breath, his hands tightening their grip on Wil'em's hand as he tried to stay lucid. He tried to hold onto the hate and the pain, but the elf's touch was magic to Daniel. He couldn't help it... he couldn't stop himself... He let out a groan of saddened defeat and parted his lips, taking in the taste he had so dreadfully missed every night since Wil'em's departure. It wasn't fair! Just when he thought he was ready to forget, this elf had to turn up and force Daniel's heart wide open once more. His hands went to Wil'em's shoulders as Wil'em moved his fingers to lightly grasp Daniel's jaw, persistent in his seductive attack on Daniel's senses.

And then he was gone. Daniel's weight dropped forward, only to be caught short by his hands that braced against the table's surface. His head fell forward as tears streamed down his cheeks, his shoulders shaking as he wallowed in the feeling of his own betrayal to himself. In a burst of frustration his hand grabbed at the candle before him and threw it at the head of the retreating elf. With maddening dexterity, Wil'em caught it and grinned. "We leave in an hour."

He blew out the flame, casting Daniel in solitary darkness.


End file.
